Volt: Stories

Volt: Stories

A blistering collection of stories from an exhilarating new voice One man kills another after neither will move his pickup truck from the road. A female sheriff in a flooded town attempts to cover up a murder. When a farmer harvesting a field accidentally runs over his son, his grief sets him off walking, mile after mile. A band of teens bent on destruction runs amok in a deserted town at night. As these men and women lash out at the inscrutable churn of the world around them, they find a grim measure of peace in their solitude. Throughout Volt , Alan Heathcock's stark realism is leavened by a lyric energy that matches the brutality of the surface. And as you move through the wind-lashed landscape of these stories, faint signs of hope appear underfoot. In Volt , the work of a writer who's hell-bent on wrenching out whatever beauty this savage world has to offer, Heathcock's tales of lives set afire light up the sky like signal flares touched off in a moment of desperation. In these eight stories, four previously published in literary journals, the settings are small towns in the mountains and valleys of the northern plains states. No peaceful rural areas exist in Heathcock�s imagination. There�s a violent death, whether accidental or planned, in every story. The last six stories constitute a terrific cycle, set in the same town, with the repeating characters of sheriff, mayor, and minister and plots that provide climaxes and resolutions that suit the cycle. It is carefully structured and introduces the town and recurrent characters in the first story, Peacemaker, and then includes them in the ensuing events that trouble the community and disturb the equilibrium of the townspeople. But what really distinguishes the collection is the lyricism of the prose. Heathcock displays a real talent for describing a character in a telling phrase and shows a deep appreciation of the petty and serious violence of daily life. Recommend Volt to fans of Cormac McCarthy, Larry Brown, and Tom Franklin. --Ellen Loughran "Frankly, there is little to fault in any of the eight stories that make up this collection. Undoubtedly, there is much grit and violence in this world, but there is also an abundance of tenderness and compassion. Heathcock displays a generosity of spirit that only those writers who love their characters can summon, and "Volt" is galvanizing proof of his talent." - The New York Times. "Alan Heathcock's VOLT carves characters from the grains of the earth. Alan is our next Cormac McCarthy." - GQ "Several of these stories celebrating such country matters stand as tall as most of the best stories by many of our most accomplished writers." -The Chicago Tribune "VOLT is a near perfect collection of stories." -The American Book Review "One after another, in their penetrating intensity, these fictions shoot an electric shock--of repulsion, of recognition--right through us, as promised by the title. We can't read them without a shiver." -The Boston Globe ALAN HEATHCOCK' s  debut collection,  VOLT , was a "Best Book″ selection from numerous newspapers and magazines, including GQ,Publishers Weekly, Salon, the Chicago Tribune, and Cleveland Plain Dealer, was named as a New York Times Editors' Choice, and was a finalist for the Barnes and Noble Discover Prize.  Heathcock has won a Whiting Award, the GLCA New Writers Award, and a National Magazine Award. VOLT Stories By Alan Heathcock Graywolf Press Copyright © 2011 Alan Heathcock All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-55597-577-7 Contents The Staying Freight.....................3Smoke...................................41Peacekeeper.............................61Furlough................................85Fort Apache.............................97The Daughter............................115Lazarus.................................163Volt....................................181 Chapter One THE STAYING FREIGHT 1 Dusk burned the ridgeline and dust churned from the tiller discs set a fog over the field. He blinked, could not stop blinking. There was not a clean part on him with which to wipe his eyes. Tomorrow he'd reserved for the sowing of winter wheat and so much was yet to be done. Thirty-eight and well respected, always brought dry grain to store, as sure a thing as a farmer could be. This was Winslow Nettles. Winslow simply didn't see his boy running across the field. He didn't see Rodney climb onto the back of the tractor, hands filled with meatloaf and sweet corn wrapped in foil. Didn't see Rodney's boot slide off the hitch. Winslow dabbed his eyes with a filthy handkerchief. The tiller discs hopped. He whirled to see what he'd plowed, and back there lay a boy like something fallen from the sky. Winslow leapt from the tractor, ran to his son. With his belt, he cinched a gash in the boy's leg. He pressed his palm to Rodney's neck. Blood purled between his fingers. Winslow cradled his son in his lap and watched the tra